


Love Thy Neighbor

by Scrunchles



Series: Christmas 2017 [9]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Jamie is hopeless, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrunchles/pseuds/Scrunchles
Summary: “Come to deck my halls with boughs of holly?” the man asks, his thick eyebrows waggling in a way Mako has only seen in cartoons.“I’ll deck something if you don’t turn that racket down,” Mako replies gruffly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts are at the end of the chapters.

_ November 1, 20XX _

It’s not even  _ December yet. _

Mako pounds on the door.  He’s just glad that the Christmas carol playing is more tenor than bass or the asshole on the other side of the door would never know he was at the door.  The music doesn’t pause, but he hears the scrape of the deadbolt before a man with “beanpole” written all over him opens the door.  He’s tall and thin and has the sharpest smile that Mako has ever seen.

“Come to deck my halls with boughs of holly?” the man asks, his thick eyebrows waggling in a way Mako has only seen in cartoons.

“I’ll deck something if you don’t turn that racket down,” Mako replies gruffly.

The young man eyes Mako, his grin never faltering.  “Righto!” Mako wonders if he’s thinking of whether he can take him.

Mako snorts before he turns away and heads back down to his own apartment.

He’s just settled down again and hit play on his movie when “Santa Baby” starts blasting above him, even louder than before.

He’s going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character A doesn’t feel the Christmas spirit but Character B, who lives above them, keeps playing Christmas carols really loud.


	2. Chapter 2

_ November 25, 20XX _

Mako smells the smoke first. Then, he looks up and sees it curling out of the air vents.

There’s someone coughing above him.

Fuck.  That idiot again.  Why isn’t the building fire alarm going off?

The coughing turns into hacking and Mako moves to the door quickly.  If that asshole burns down his apartment, he’s going to murder him.  If he dies in the blaze, Mako will find a way to bring him back and then kill him with his own hands.  Mako takes the stairs two at a time.

When he reaches the next floor up, Mako pounds on the door until the coughing gets closer and the door opens.

Smoke floods the hallway and the man within the apartment comes rushing out, closing the door quickly behind him.

He takes several deep breaths and coughs a few more times before straightening and grinning at Mako.

“Anyone want some barbecue?”

Mako glares at him and then opens the door to the jackass’s apartment.

“Hey! I’m cookin’ in there!”

It takes nearly an hour to get the smoke under control, and, afterward, the stupid skinny man starts trying to cut into the burned turkey like he was actually going to eat it.

Mako grabs him by the arm and drags him out of the apartment.

“Hey!  I have to cut it while it’s kinda hot or it’ll turn into a brick!” The man says, but Mako drags him down the stairs anyway.  “And I still need to put the tubers in!”

“You’re going to eat with me,” Mako tells him.  “Don’t fucking try cooking anything else.”


	3. Chapter 3

_ November 26, 20XX _

 

The CD is innocuous.  Mako hasn’t actually seen a disc in years outside of an electronics store or those TV ads trying to sell you on a collection.

 

It’s been slipped under the gap beneath his apartment door, so he doesn’t think someone accidentally dropped it.  He stoops to pick it up and reads the front cover.  Someone wrote with sharpie on the plastic instead of using the insert. “ _ Thaks for the grub.  It’s past Thanksgiving. Christmas music’s right, right _ ?”  The lines are shaky and the sentences are stilted.  That dumbass probably did whatever this is after he left boozed up last night.

 

Mako snorts and rolls his eyes.  Sure.  Like he hadn’t been playing it the day after Halloween.

 

Mako forgets to go down and get his mail and news paper, more interested in seeing what the CD holds. He pops open the case and removes the disc.  Judging from the burn, there’s about seventeen tracks on it, give or take.

 

He already knows what his neighbor’s taste is, let’s see what he thinks Mako’s into.

 

_ I don't want a lot for Christmas _ _   
_ _ There is just one thing I need _ _   
_ _ I don't care about the presents _ _   
_ __ Underneath the Christmas tree

 

Interesting choice.  Mako doesn’t  _ love _ the song, but he can stand it.  He lets it play through as he works on Thanksgiving dishes.

 

As the last note of the song fades out, crying  _ all I want for Christmas is you  _ over and over again, Mako feels a little sad.  He had been getting into it at the end—

 

_ I don't want a lot for Christmas _ _   
_ _ There is just one thing I need _ __   
  


What the fuck.

 

_ I don't care about the presents _ _   
_ _ Underneath the Christmas tree _

 

Mako dries his hands of suds and walks over to the stereo.  He hits skip.

 

The now familiar musical jingle fills the room for the third time.

 

He hits it again.  And again. The fifth track is slightly different. It’s tinny, like it was recorded from another stereo.

 

When the singing starts, it’s male, nasally and slurs just enough for Mako to tell that the singer is drunk but not enough to make the song unintelligible. Mako feels heat rush to his face and neck and he hits pause quickly.  Holy shit.  Was that asshole hitting on him?  Mako looks up at the ceiling and then hits play.  He cranks up the volume just enough that Jamison would be able to hear himself crooning drunkenly along with Mariah Carey.

 

He hears it when Jamison wakes up, hears the stilted thud of his peg leg hitting the floor as he rushes to the door. After another minute, there’s a fist pounding on his apartment.

 

He was drunk!  Good food and good times got him sappy!  Give it back!

 

Mako dries his hands once again, then walks over and puts the track on repeat.  It’s growing on him the longer the asshole pounds on his door and begs him to break the disc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made me a Christmas playlist but it’s just Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is you”. I can’t tell if you’re hitting on me or if it’s a joke


	4. Chapter 4

_ December 16, 20XX _

The temperature in his apartment has been steadily dropping all day.  He called down to the apartment manager around noon, but there was already someone on the way to take a look.  That was two hours ago.  Now the lights are shutting off every ten minutes and Mako’s pretty sure that a breaker keeps getting fucked every time the electrician tries to get the furnace going.

He’s reading when the power shuts off and doesn’t come back on.

Mako sighs and reluctantly leaves his mountain of blankets to get another layer.  Shit, it’s fucking cold.

He just rewrapped himself and began to recover heat when there’s a knock at the door.

Mako stares at the door, willing whoever it is to go away.  He’ll be able to feel his toes in a few minutes.  Just go—

There’s another knock, and then the person speaks.

“ ‘Ey, m-mate!  Got any blankets to  _ s-s-s-fuck _ s-spare?”  It’s Jamison.

Mako doesn’t want to leave his cocoon, but he finds himself doing so anyway.

He drags his blankets with him to the door and when he opens it, he stares down at the lanky man wrapped in three threadbare blankets and wearing several pairs of pants, socks and shirts.

“All the blankets I have, I’m using,” Mako tells him, willing his teeth not to chatter like Jamison’s are.

“Mind sharing?” Jamison asks.  “I’ll a-add mine to your l-l-lot,” he offers.

Mako eyes the shitty blankets the idiot has clustered around his thin shoulders and then opens the door further.  “Keep ‘em,” Mako tells him.  

Jamison rushes through the door and plops on Mako’s couch.  His bony ass smacks Mako’s book and he sighs when Jamison pulls it out from beneath him and tosses it on the coffee table.

“So how many blankets you spotting me?” Jamison asks. 

Mako snorts and sits beside Jamison.  He looks surprised how close Mako is before Mako unwraps his thick layer of blankets and drapes it over the both of them.

Jamison shifts around until he’s comfortable, but he’s still shivering five minutes later.  He doesn’t have the fat or muscle to generate enough heat.

Mako sighs and shifts closer.  He doesn’t know when it happens, but eventually Jamison is slumped against him.  At least he’s stopped chattering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “it’s hella snowing outside and the power went out on the third floor (aka your floor) of our apartment building. You come up to my door, asking for blankets because you’re freezing but I just pull you inside and oh wait when did we start cuddling” au


	5. Chapter 5

_ December 25, 20XX _

Letting Jamison stay until the electric came back was a mistake.

He seems to think that keeping eachother warm for a night is cause to hang around Mako’s apartment, blathering and touching things and  _ asking him to spend Christmas together _ .

He says Mako can do the cooking.   _ Obviously. _

He says they should give each other something they’ve always wanted.   _ No. _

Aw, come on!  What does Mako want most in the world?   _ Silence _ .

Okay.  That’s fine.  He can do that.  _ Sure. _

Christmas is full of food and warmth and Jamison is surprisingly subdued from his usual loud, obnoxious self.  He still talks a mile a minute and and laughs in that jarring, braying way of his, but he’s not wild and annoying like he was at Thanksgiving.

Lunch is devoured and dinner is marinating when they settle on the couch, stomachs bloated and eyelids drooping.

“So?” Jamison asks, groaning and shifting on the couch.  “Pretty silent, right?”

Mako chuckles and scratches his belly.  “Better than Thanksgiving.”

Jamison grins and then groans when he sits up to shift closer to Mako.  He nudges him with his elbow and lets out a weak laugh.  “C’mon,” he says.  “Don’t make me beg for my present.”

Mako snorts and rolls his eyes.  “What do you want?”

Jamison flops onto him.  Mako’s stomach sloshes and it makes him queasy. He winces and pushes Jamison away, but Jamison just whines and makes a noise like he’s going to hurl.

“I had a good night when the electricity went out,” Jamison’s says after a few minutes of Mako watching him get his overly-full stomach back under control.  “Ain’t had a close night like that in a while.”

Mako snorts and relaxes back into the couch again.  Idiot.

“So you want to be friends for Christmas?”

Jamison shrugs, looks like he’s going to say something, then just nods.

Mako chuckles and lays his head back.  “We can be friends, then,” he says.

“Friends!” Jamie lets out a delighted laugh and then a groan.

“Don’t puke on me or my couch,” Mako warns him. “And it’s still Christmas, so…  _ silence _ .”

“Friends…” Jamie says, softer, still laying against Mako.

Mako rolls his eyes and feels them drooping.  In a few hours he will wake up, cook more food and do it all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character A can’t travel to see their family on Christmas, so they invite their grumpy loner neighbor Character B.


	6. Chapter 6

_ December 26, 20XX _

“Go home.”  Mako says as the credits roll on  _ How the Grinch Stole Christmas. _

“Fuck no.”  Jamison snorts and starts paging through Netflix for another, shittier Christmas movie.  He’s tucked against Mako’s side, and even though there’s a yard of couch he could be sitting on, he refuses to move.

Mako’s tried shoving and shifting, but it just made the asshole lean harder and laugh.  He figured that just letting him be would make him lose interest.  That was six hours ago.

Jamison selects  _ Mickey’s Christmas Carol  _ and Mako lets out a put upon sigh.  

“What, you want to choose?” Jamison asks, tossing the remote on the coffee table and then burrowing back into Mako’s side.

Mako rolls his eyes and then closes them.  Maybe he’ll just take a nap.  He drifts until a snore jerks him back awake again.  He thinks he woke himself and gets ready to fall back asleep when he hears another loud, phlegmy inhale and his eyes turn to the long, narrow man positively  _ snuggled  _ into his side.

Mako reaches around with the arm that isn’t trapped under Jamison and pinches his nose closed.

He comes awake slapping and screeching and it makes Mako laugh so hard he ends up hacking.

“Rack off, you shit bag!” Jamison snaps, slapping Mako before leaping over the coffee table and hurrying to where he keeps his inhaler in the kitchen.  

Jamison grabs Mako’s hand with his metal one and presses the inhaler into his palm.

Mako takes a puff from it-- inhale, hold and then he exhales in a soft chuckle.

Jamison is still muttering expletives and calling him unflattering names as he climbs back up on the couch and pulls the blanket he had been using back over his extensive legs.

“Sorry,” Mako says.

“I don’t mind you wakin’ me up, but  _ fuck you  _ for finding it  _ so goddamned funny _ and not having your inhaler  _ within bloody reach _ ,” Jamison snarls, though he immediately starts leaning against Mako again, positively nestling into his side. 

Mako takes another hit from his inhaler because his face is starting to feel hot and his throat is tightening up again for some reason.

“I’m not moving again until New Years,” Jamison announces.

Mako clears his throat and shifts to get more comfortable on his couch, slumping and leaning into Jamison imperceptibly.  “Sounds good to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we’ve been just cuddling here watching movies for like six hours and this is officially the most cozy and comfortable we’veever been so we’re not getting up until new year’s


	7. Chapter 7

_ December 30, 20XX _

Mako never expected to fall into a pattern with anyone, much less his idiot neighbor from the floor above.  It feels nice for things to be so easy, so simple.  

Jamison hears him get home in the evenings and comes down to hang out and watch TV.  

Tonight, he brings Chinese and presses into Mako’s side once they’ve both finished their food. It’s another pattern, and as Jamison hands him a fortune cookie, Mako finds himself smiling.

_ A friend is a present you give yourself. _

Mako snorts and tosses the fortune on the table before shifting to relax with his arm across the back of the couch.

Jamison is nestled in close to Mako’s side, and he resists the urge to rest his arm around Jamison’s back.  After the second movie, Jamison starts checking his watch.

Mako nudges him around the third time it happened and raised his brow.  “You got somewhere you need to be?” he asks.

Jamison’s face goes white and he shakes his head. “Nah, mate.  Just… ah… used to… double checking if I gotta bolt.”

Mako snorts and finally lets his arm drop to Jamison’s shoulders.  “Relax,” Mako tells him. 

Jamie fairly melts into him, and Mako is suddenly very aware of his own heart beat.  He wonders if Jamie can feel it through the thick layer of muscle and fat he’s cuddling into.

Halfway through the third movie, Jamison starts checking his watch again and Mako feels the rush of closeness fade.  Maybe he really did want to leave—

Just as he’s having the thought, Jamison checks his watch one last time, then twists around and leans up to press his lips to Mako’s.

Mako’s mind goes blank.  When he feels Jamison’s lips part, he grabs the back of his shirt and hauls him back. 

Jamison’s face goes red and he jolts forward, trying to pull away from the hand on his shirt.  “Fuck, that was stupid, I know.  I know it was dumb, I’m sorry!”  

Mako opens his mouth, but doesn’t know what to say.  Jamison keeps babbling, and Mako presses his other hand to Jamison’s mouth to get him to stop.

“Jamison…” he begins, trying to figure out what the fuck he wants to say.  

Jamison stops fighting his hold and just sits on the couch with his hands over his face.  He’s trembling.

Mako lets him go and pulls Jamison’s hands away from his face.  “Listen,” he tells him.  “I don’t mind.”  Jamison uncurls a bit. “I was just surprised.”  Jamison looks up at Mako like he’s still expecting him to somehow rip him in half via his arms. 

“You don’t mind like we can just never talk about it again or you don’t mind like…” Jamison stops talking and his eyebrows raise up nearly to his hairline.

“I don’t mind like…” Mako feels his throat close up on the words and he doesn’t understand why it’s so hard to say he wouldn’t mind Jamison kissing him again.  So, instead, he pulls Jamison closer and leans in to press their lips together again.

Jamison lets out a soft giggle against Mako’s lips, and when he pulls back, they’re both smiling.  It feels silly that he didn’t want to admit he wanted this.  Wants this.

“Happy New Year,” Jamison says with a grin.

Mako raises his brow and then laughs and drags Jamison closer.

Jamison rests his hands on Mako’s shoulders and then pulls himself onto Mako’s lap.  Mako settles his hands on his hips.

“You know it’s December 31st, right?” He points out.

“It was,” Jamie says.  “Now it’s January.”

He says it with so much conviction and presses so sweet a kiss to Mako’s lips that he doesn’t want to correct him.  “No,” he says anyway.  “Yesterday was the 30th.”

Jamison’s eyes get wide.  He bails out of Mako’s lap and hurdles the table, headed for the door.  “Fuck, I work tonight, then!  I’m late!”

Mako laughs and rubs his face.  Of course they kiss and Jamison has to fuck off to work.

The door slams behind Jamison, then opens again and Mako uncovers his face to turn his attention to the door.  

“Pick this up tonight?” Jamison asks hopefully.

Mako smiles and huffs out a laugh.  “Wake me up when you get home,” he tells him. 

Jamison nods and grins.  “Right.”  Then the door closes and Mako is alone in his apartment with a movie he’s lost his place in and the strange tingle of a recent kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s new years’ eve and i am so determined to kiss you when the ball drops

**Author's Note:**

> the ‘I live next door and just burned my holiday turkey; I know you smell my failure. Do you happen to have a spot for me at your table?’ AU


End file.
